Icons of Classic Style: Martin Luther King Jr.

Monday of this week was Martin Luther King Day, a holiday filled with both pragmatic and intangible significance. Dr. King is without a doubt one of the most revered figures in modern American history. More than most public figures of the 20th Century, King is so intertwined with the times in which he lived that he has transcended his own personality. He has become a legend, but a very human one.

I chose Dr. King as an icon of classic style because more than anyone else I admire, the way in which he chose to present himself every day quite literally changed the world. When I think of Martin Luther King, Jr., I see a man who possessed incredible inner strength and a drive to make a tangible mark on the world. I see a man who forced others to see who he really was by sheer force of personality. And when I think of how he looked – I see him in a suit.

It was usually a simple but elegant suit; dark, sober and professional. It was a Sunday suit; fitting of course as he was a preacher. But it was also his armor during a time in my country’s history when bigotry was literally the law. Black citizens had little protection or recourse and even the most heinous act of murder was seen in a different legal light. The presumption was usually that the victim deserved it and all white juries usually concurred.

I bring up these rather depressing images because it is important to put King in the right context. As with his contemporary, Bobby Kennedy, King has become a somewhat remote and perfected image. But the dangers faced by Dr. King and those around him were very real and very personal. Every day he had to get up and accept that his work could – and probably would – lead to his death.

In addition to his landmark non-violent protests, King led another type of war. It was the war of perception. Dr. King presented black America in a way that tore down the flimsy veil of prejudice. Step by step his actions reshaped the image of what made someone an American and a human.

King understood the role of media and of perception. He made a point to always be well turned out, eloquent, knowledgeable and gentlemanly. He was daily fighting the ignorant and small-minded stereotypes that unfortunately persist to this day. By presenting a glaring counter argument in the form of an accomplished and elegant African American leader, King opened a new front in the war for equality.

By being perpetually well dressed King’s image, as well as his words, presented an unassailable message of strength, confidence, leadership and intelligence.

He was not the first in civil rights leader to harness the power of dress. Malcolm X, a fellow civil rights activist and leading figure in the Nation of Islam, lead legions of followers impeccably turned out in suits and bow ties.

While clothing does not in and of itself change the world, part of Dr. King’s legacy will always be the image of a polished leader and brilliant orator. King’s choice of clothing extended his reach and defined a leader.

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Bertie Wooster Style

Of all the delightful escapism in this world, sitting down with a bit of Wodehouse is surely one of the most felicitous. P.G. gave us some of the most charming and warmest of characters in the history of literature and, without a doubt, the enduring appeal of the books is the wonderful innocence of the Wodehouse world. The Queen Mother used to read a little of the Jeeves books before turning in at night; Stephen Fry cites Wodehouse as one of his favourite authors and apparently as the lifebelt that prevented him from going all the way under in his dark days of self-doubt and crippling depression.

And there, in a nutshell is the wonder of the stories; it’s something to keep a great old lady entertained, skipping off to dreamland with the right cocktail of final thoughts; and something to remind us all how wonderful the world is, despite all the daily plight and anguish. Wodehouse is the representation of the human race on absolutely tip-top form. It’s a tonic to read, wonderful to watch and even acting like your favourite Wodehouse hero or heroine is marvellous fun.

Without a doubt, the most popular of these heroes is Bertie Wooster. Bertie is often believed to be rather stupid; young, very wealthy and completely lacking ambition, he lives an idle life, but as the narrator in the Jeeves series, his mind is actually chock full of amusing and truthful witticisms and observations.

And that’s not all he offers; Bertie is also one of the more appealing dandies in all history; fictional and non-fictional. When Jeeves is introducing his replacement, Brinkley, to the duties of the Wooster household, the less worldly and resentful Brinkley proffers the impertinent statement, on seeing Bertie’s vast and wonderful wardrobe; ‘Got enough clothes, ‘asn’t ‘e?’ Jeeves responds with appropriate dexterity; ‘Very nearly.’

Interpretations of Bertie’s style have run the gamut from garishly eccentric to immaculate subtlety, but one constant is the glorious optimism of his character which shines through in his resplendent clothing. From checkered plus-fours, which Jeeves strongly objects to, with that famous and mighty ‘silent-disapproval’ look of his, to his beautifully tailored tails with matching buttonhole and patent kickers; Bertie is a character who delights in fashions, but never neglects style. Jeeves often has to inform his master of sartorial codes; ‘Gentlemen do not wear straw hats in the metropolis’, but, largely, Bertie’s style, superior to that of his Drone’s Club chums, is self-taught and much admired.

His eye for trends and individuality is marked frequently in the Wodehouse books; choosing a white-mess jacket for a summer dinner instead of the usual ‘bally black thing’. Often, this persistence with fads is a mere representation of one of the evils of Bertie’s idleness: boredom. However, Bertie has much to teach our cynical and graceless society about the honest goodness of being, if a little dim, a bally pleasant chap. Reading a few lines of Bertie’s exasperating trials with the opposite sex gives me a renewed goodwill to the world; it makes me want to don some sharp threads, a jaunty hat and a bow-tie and skip down to the park for a bracing walk and a reflection on the magnificent planet we live on.
If living like Bertie is a problem, then you could always adopt his bonhomie and a smidgeon of his wardrobe, so pick up your natty umbrella and take a walk in the world of Wodehouse.

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Lapo Elkann: Creative (or Affected) Dresser

It must be difficult being the wild, party loving younger son of a family very much in the public eye. The elder, the heir, courts responsibility from an earlier age; the family guides them, history sets fine examples and though a great weight is set upon their shoulders, their path is clear and pre-defined. Younger sons, though they may be part heirs, are not given this sort of mollycoddling. Second sons like Prince Harry are privileged, yes; the third in line to the throne never wants for a thing, but just what is expected of him?

The Agnelli family are the Italians royals’. They are photographed, interviewed, fawned over and worshipped as surrogates for the vacant throne. Though the Prince of Naples and the Duke of Aosta may fight out their pretensions to the kingdom of Italy, Hello!, OK! and the “stalkarazzi” only seem interested in what the people want, and an insight, whether welcome or unwelcome, into one of the most glamorous and privileged Italian dynasties is, ironically, what the people want the most.

One member of the family, a younger son as it happens, is currently the media’s target of choice. Agnelli by blood, but not by name, Lapo Elkann is becoming an increasingly recognisable chap on the transatlantic chichi charity circuit. Ciao-ing everyone in Cipriani from Mary-Kate Olsen to Donald Trump, the enigmatic New York born Italian has also made a name for himself as a man of style. Though he is criticised by some for mocking his grandfather Gianni’s true style in an over-affected way, Elkann’s approach is actually rather more sophisticated than an alleged raid of old Agnelli’s wardrobe.

His elder brother, John Elkann, who is tipped to become head of the Fiat group, is certainly well-dressed but not in a noticeable way. His clothing, like his so-far-so-good life, is sober. Lapo is wilder; his risky choices in clothing mirror his high-octane reputation for drugs (he survived an overdose of cocaine in 2005 that put him into a coma), dating numerous MAWs (model/actress/whatever) and pursuing a vigorous enjoyment of life that is standard form for third generation scions.

His interesting blend of hand-me-down suits, tailored jackets, retro sports clothing and natty accessories is actually quite original. I can fully understand why Vogue saw fit to drape the prestigious accolade of Most Stylish Man over this stallion’s shoulders; combining double-breasted suits with Bikkembergs and using a piece of tying rope as a belt is somewhat revolutionary and though his experimentation produces mixed results, I applaud his efforts.

One thing affirming his innovative approach is the inability to pin-down or label one designer or one icon of his influence. Some men dress like window displays from Bond Street; borrowing everything from one designer and reproducing a look. What I like about Elkann is that he IS his look. He is impossible to pigeon-hole and that makes him all the more appealing.

I also like the curious duplicity of his wardrobe. Sometimes, he masquerades as the obedient offspring; stiff collars, styled hair and pinstripes, then suddenly he is the billionaire-to-be hellraiser; insolent tennis shoes, plush pashminas, stubbing out cigars in his grandfathers suits. ‘Tut-tut’ indeed.

Apart from his little foray into design with überfashion designers DSquared, or his updating of the Fiat brand (his suggestions to return to retro, including the reinstatement of the 1930s badge, were fantastically successful), Elkann has been quiet in his artistic pushes. However, something tells me that a man with so many ideas for his own form must have more creativity up his sleeve.

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Icons of Timeless Style – Part II: Albert Einstein, Thomas Keller

As I continued to mull over who I consider real icons of style, I made an effort to look past the obvious. As one reader helpfully pointed out, while my fist two choices are certainly icons of style, they were not particularly unexpected.

I cannot argue with this; both President Kennedy and Mr. Clooney are well known in part because of their personal style. When I assembled this list though, I specifically sought out individuals from a variety of fields, points in time, and fame.

For this next round, I turn to a childhood hero and brilliant restaurateur. Neither is particularly well known for their wardrobes. The first is perhaps best known for a total lack of sartorial élan while the second is seen primarily in chef whites. Custom tailored for certain, but still just chef whites.

Albert Einstein

Yes. I said Albert Einstein. Why, you might ask; I mean he was not exactly known for his sartorial elegance. And that’s exactly why I put him on this list. He is the smart man’s anti-dandy. At least that is how he chose to have the world view him.

While his signature absentminded professor look became synonymous with brilliance unconcerned with the banalities of style, many close to Einstein tell of a man quite aware of his look’s impact. While no one would claim him to be overly interested in fashion, Einstein was very conscious with his public persona; using the rumpled suit and out-of-control hair to his own ends.

Einstein was quite deliberate with his dress, in part because it worked to his advantage. It was in fact a disarming tool, a shield that deflected expectations. It was also who he was as a person. Albert Einstein was in a sense the Bill Gates of his day; brilliant but sartorially challenged – or challenging, depends on your view.

In so many ways Einstein was his own man, and I think that is what always impressed me the most. Rising from patent clerk to heights of international acclaim, he never really changed who he was. Sure, for white tie ceremonies he would don white tie, but he never tried to be someone else. The hair still popped out at odd angles and the dress clothes had a slightly rumpled something about them. He was always just Albert; brilliant yes, but just Albert.

That is what I always admired about Albert Einstein; not just the mind bending intellect but the totally individual personality of which he was never ashamed. If he was cold, he put on a cardigan. End of story.

Thomas Keller

I actually had a little internal debate about listing Mr. Keller. I had trouble choosing between him and another exceptional chef and showman, Chicago’s Charlie Trotter. Both are epicurean technicians of the highest order, but Keller won out due to his remarkable ability to maintain unimpeachable standards in outlets spread across the country.

Thomas Keller is one of the world’s top living chefs and, if things keep going the way they have, one of the best ever to live. He is quite simply that good every day of the week and other chefs speak his name with hushed tones normally reserved for higher powers. He is also equally well known for not being an arrogant snob, which in his industry is equally remarkable.

Among his many accomplishments is the evolution of California cuisine to international acclaim and almost singlehandedly turning Napa Valley into a fine dining and luxury lifestyle destination. Keller has also elevated the entire dining experience – from food storage and preparation to coffee service – to a sublime and almost reverential experience.

Thomas Keller’s obsessive dedication to perfection, be it ingredients or wait staff uniforms, has placed him and his universe of restaurants – namely The French Laundry – on a wholly unique plain.

So exacting is his staff’s culinary skills that the French Laundry’s kitchen was replicated in the virtual world for the blockbuster animated film, “Ratatouille.” The movie’s restaurant characters and their culinary skills were all based on meticulous recreations of Keller’s chefs. It is no small honor that the movie was wildly successful in France – viewed as a loving dedication to the true wonders of gastronomy.

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Style Movie I Enjoyed: The Darjeeling Limited

This week I was fortunate enough to see a movie that actually allowed style itself to play a crucial part. Most movies are prone to product placement; never so much stylish as verbose projects full of marketable names. However, the film I enjoyed, The Darjeeling Limited, was a film that was prepared to place style on an equal billing with the leading names of Owen Wilson, Adrien Brody and Jason Schwartzmann.

It wasn’t that there was an overload of style; fantastical outfits and utterly artistic camera work weren’t really key components of the film. In fact, the three lead characters wore the same outfits throughout the film. The film’s director and co-writer Wes Anderson is well-known for his tendency to ‘uniform’ his characters. And, bizarrely, though some critics denigrate his efforts on film as superficial, his focus on costume and scenery unhealthy, it is surely far easier to argue that Wes is frugal with his approach. In fact, when it came to it, less was more as far as the movie goer was concerned.

For ideas on clothes for his leading men, Wes turned to friend and designer, Marc Jacobs. Known for his subtly modern takes on classic menswear, Jacobs is one man who has conquered the misconception that modern designers court fashion for the ego boost and the money. Jacobs, while he may be genuinely in love with clothing, is well known for his dislike of fashion. Thus, for a costume designer on a major motion picture, he makes for a wise choice. The leading men wore variations on the grey flannel suit, symbolic of their blood connection as brothers. Their shirts, though of the same cut, were of very different colours which was symbolic of their emotional distance from one another at the beginning of the story.

Carrying off symbolism through costume isn’t a new trick, nor is it particularly difficult, but the effect is appealing. Schwartzmann’s black shirt echoed his dark, rather Don Juan playboy status (he has intercourse with a stewardess in a train toilet), Brody’s crisp white represented his belief that he was the most deserving (married with a child on the way) and the least guilty, and Wilson’s shirt was a dark khaki which represented his position as the balance between the other two brothers; the force that reaffirmed their brotherhood. Symbolism is ubiquitous in Anderson’s movies, and there is no escaping it in this.

The style of the picture is an amalgam of influences. On the one hand you have the delicious cliché of wealthy westerners travelling through India with absurd amounts of luggage, behaving like tourists and ludicrously expectant of miracles when wandering through sacred places. On the other hand you have three sharply dressed men who sit lounging in their compartment, sipping painkillers with a cigarette drooping from their lips. Dressed for the Western metropolis, where their outfits might sink into anonymity, they come to the fore in rural India. In fact parts of the film reminded me of much fashion marketing I have seen; improbably attractive people, improbably dressed in an improbable location. In The Darjeeling Limited, the improbability didn’t matter, and though I am more likely to be seen in India wearing a white suit, club tie and pith helmet, I appreciated Jacobs clothing.

I also appreciated the beautiful Marc Jacobs for Louis Vuitton luggage which was carted around by Brody, Schwartzmann and Wilson as they continued their journey through India. Blissfully monogram free, the luggage (pictured below) was caramel brown in colour (Vuitton likely using their Nomade leather as the base material) and was covered in charming embossed motifs of elephants, giraffe’s, zebras and palm trees. The design for the motifs was not by Jacobs, but Anderson’s brother, Eric, and the effect was truly and unabashedly colonial. Even their father’s initials were printed on the side. There were a great number of items: two or three suitcases, a steamer trunk, a keepall, a reporter satchel and a briefcase, and there were frequent Abbey Road style shots of the procession of brothers with their matching luggage.

As a style film it doesn’t have the complexity or beauty of The Talented Mr Ripley or the elegance of Breakfast at Tiffany’s, but there is a certain North By Northwest quality to the outfits – that ‘good in all conditions take-me-anywhere’ label to the suits. In terms of the movie’s undeniable charm, style does indeed play a leading role.

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